


Of Migraines and Mendings

by SabbyStarlight



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: And Jack fixes it, Bromance, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mac gets stressed and gets a migraine, Super late tag to Season One Compass, That's it, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: "I'm fine.  Headache.  No big deal.""Headache?  Or a migraine?" Jack frowned in sympathy when Mac stayed silent, the quiet enough of an answer.
Comments: 33
Kudos: 127





	Of Migraines and Mendings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little tag to Compass I've had sitting around unfinished, literally for years. Oops. Better late than never, right?

Jack whistled as he made his way down the hall towards the Phoenix labs. Broken arm secured in his sling, free hand swinging bags of bagels. He had originally stopped to pick them up for him and Mac and decided he might as well bring enough for the rest of the techs working with Mac in the lab today, it was always a smart idea to stay on their good side, in his experience, and what better way than with free breakfast?

"Mornin'!" He greeted Jill when he walked into the lab. "I brought breakfast for my favorite nerd squad."

"Thanks," She glanced up from the circuit board she was working on. "You'll have to take Mac's to him though."

"Thought that's what I was doin'," Jack frowned, looking around the lab and searching for familiar blonde hair. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Went home," Jill shrugged. "He said he wasn't feeling great. Didn't look very good."

"And you just let him leave?"

Jill set down the screwdriver in her hand and sat up to fully look at Jack, taking one of the takeout bags from his hand. "He is an adult if you haven't noticed. "And he went home sick. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," Jack sighed, tilting his head back and speaking to the ceiling. "Is that Mac doesn't take sick days. Let alone leave work once he's already here. So for him to do that? It's something bad. And there's a fully equipped medical team a few floors above us but instead of paying them a visit, he went home."

"Maybe he stopped there first?" She suggested, picking through the bagels, hoping to find a blueberry one. "Isn't that where you're supposed to be anyway? Thought you were off rotation until that arm healed?"

"Do you even know Mac?" He ignored the back half of her questions. "When was the last time you ever saw him go to Medical on his own?"

"Wonder who he learned that from?" Jill mumbled under her breath, grabbing another bag from Jack's hands and searching for the cream cheese.

"Did he say what was wrong?" Jack looked across the mess of a lab table, searching for an answer among the wires and computer pieces covering the shiny metal surface. "Was he sick or hurting or upset?"

"Um, headache I think. He was kinda squinty."

"Squinty." Jack closed his eyes, keeping his temper in check. "He was squinty, and you just let him drive home?"

"He's a grown man!" Jill threw up her hands, blueberry bagel forgotten in exasperation. "I'm not his boss, Jack! Or his parent! I'm not you."

"Ain't neither," Jack muttered, dropping the final bag onto the counter, breakfast forgotten. "But if he's okay when I find him he's in trouble, that's for sure."

"Jack," She tried to reason with him again. "I'm sure he's fi... Where are you going?" Jack had turned on his heel in the middle of her speech, leaving.

"To find Mac." He didn't bother turning his head as he answered, calling out a halfhearted "Y'all enjoy your breakfast," as the doors to the lab closed behind him.

"Not his parent my ass," Jill shook her head, finally taking a bite of her bagel.

  
_**~M~** _

Mac's Jeep was parked in the driveway when Jack got to his house. Nothing appeared out of place as he walked up the drive and used his key to unlock the door and let himself in. It was quiet though, no television or music playing, not even for background noise, and the lights were off, confirming Jack's suspicions.

"Mac?" He called softly as he walked down the hall, not wanting to startle him. "Where you at, hoss?"

"Bedroom," A quiet voice answered.

Jack slowly cracked open the door to Mac's room, trying not to let in any more light than he had to before closing it behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo through the silence. "Hey. It's just me."

"What're you doing here?" Mac's voice was a hushed whisper in the darkness. Jack could barely make him out, a curled up lump in the middle of the bed, barely visible in the dim light filtering in around the drawn curtains. "Thought you had PT?"

"I did," Jack had to work to keep his voice low, he wasn't a naturally quiet person, not by a long shot, but Mac's needs would always be enough to make him fight against even the most ingrained character qualities. "You were supposed to be workin' in the lab with Jill today. I Stopped in before headin' up to medical and she said you weren't there. That' you'd gone home sick. Got me worried."

"I'm fine. Headache. No big deal."

"Headache? Or a migraine?" Jack frowned in sympathy when Mac stayed silent, the quiet enough of an answer. "You drove like this?"

"Wasn't this bad." Mac assured. "When I left. Could feel it coming on. Wanted to get back here."

"You should've called me," Jack scolded. He knew the last thing his partner needed right now was a lecture but he couldn't help it. "You ain't supposed to hide stuff like this from me. I would have helped."

"You can't keep doing everything for me," There was a layer of pain in Mac's voice that had nothing to do with the pickax hammering away behind his eyes. "Might as well start getting used to it."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Can we stop talking now? Kinda feel like my head's about to explode." He was asking Jack to drop the conversation that had taken an unexpected turn, but all Jack heard was the plea for him to make the pain go away.

"Yeah," He agreed, filing the topic away to bring back up later. "Yeah, real soon. Answer a few things first though, okay? You take anything for it yet?"

"When I got home. Don't know if it really had time to work. Kinda came right back up."

Jack winced again. "Makin' you sick, huh?" He tried to drop his voice even lower. "Must be a bad one then. It's been a while since one hit, you know what brought it on?"

"Not talking, remember?"

"Yeah, alright," Jack's eyes scanned over the dark room again as he leaned over to untie his boots one-handed, setting them out of the way before walking over to Mac's bed, doing everything he could to stay quiet. "If it's this bad I'm guessing that touching you is a big no at the moment, huh?" He asked, desperate to help.

"I can feel each thread in this t-shirt," Mac groaned. He longed for the familiarity of Jack's tactile comfort but just the thought of calloused fingers carding through his hair made him cringe, pain skyrocketing to new heights.

"Definite no then," Jack sighed, stuffing the hand not hindered by his sling into the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from reaching out on instinct. "I'll be back, okay? Gonna go see what I can find to help."

Jack shut the door to the adjoining bathroom behind him so he could turn on the light without it bothering Mac and went for the cabinet under the sink where he knew a heating pad was kept. A bottle of over-the-counter pain killers caught his eye, lid left sitting on the counter instead of being twisted back on the bottle, medicine cabinet door still open. He put the lid back in place and snuck quietly back into Mac's room.

"Is this what you took?" He held the offending bottle out for Mac to squint at through barely-opened eyes. "This OTC junk? No wonder it didn't help, where's your prescription? I think this one calls for the strong stuff."

"'M out," Mac mumbled, reaching blindly for a pillow and burying his face into it.

"Out? How are you out?"

"Hadn't had to take one in so long they expired," Mac had to take a break between talking, swallowing hard to keep his nausea at bay. "Threw them out. Never got around to getting the 'script refilled."

"Damn it, Mac," Jack ran a stressed hand over the top of his head. "Okay, nothin' we can do about that now. Addin' it to the list of stuff you and me are gonna talk about later, though." He warned before returning to the bathroom.

Mac listened as Jack quietly opened and closed cabinets and drawers until he had found what he was looking for and returned to the bedroom, plugging something into the outlet closest to Mac's bed.

"Think you can roll onto your back?" Jack whispered, arranging the heating pad on Mac's pillow one-handed. "Get some heat on your neck? I bet that'll help."

Moving was the absolute last thing Mac wanted to do, but he knew Jack was right, it would help, so he took a shaky breath and slowly shifted, letting Jack help position him and trying not to wince at the touch, biting his lip to keep a choked whimper from escaping.

"There we go," Jack soothed as he pulled his hand away. "Easy, just let it do its thing." He waited, counting heartbeats, watching the rise and fall of Mac's chest, making sure that his attempt at helping hadn't actually ended up making things worse before moving on to the next phase of his plan. "This next one's cold. Gonna put it over your eyes, don't let it spook you."

Mac's entire body tensed when the cool washcloth fell into place, the conflicting sensations nearly overwhelming, but he made himself relax instead of fighting against them.

"Is that okay?" Jack's voice broke through the silence. "Not too much?"

Not trusting his own voice yet, Mac raised a shaky hand off the bed just enough to send Jack a thumbs up.

"Alright, I... I don't know what else I can do to help you, bud." Jack crept his way over to Mac's desk, picking up the chair with his uninjured arm and carrying it over to sit beside Mac's bed, afraid the wheels would squeak if he tried to drag it.

"Just..." Mac hesitated, "Stay?"

"I ain't goin' nowhere," Jack promised, reaching his free hand out, close but not touching.

Eventually, the pain subsided enough that Mac risked moving, just the tiniest bit, scooting his hand over. He wasn't up to touching yet, as much as he wanted to grasp onto Jack's hand and not let go until the misery was over, but he took a risk and hooked one finger around Jack's thumb, barely any actual contact, but it was enough to help ground him and he was able to drift off to sleep with Jack watching over him.

  
_**~M~** _

  
Mac hadn't shifted any and still had that one finger holding on to Jack's thumb like a lifeline when he woke up.

Jack noticed that Mac was awake before Mac himself had time to process it. "Hey, you back with me?"

"Yeah," Mac's voice was hoarse but using it didn't send his residual headache skyrocketing again, so he counted it as progress, twisting his hand and wrapping all his fingers around and giving Jack’s a squeeze before letting go, lifting it to his face and pulling away the long-since dried washcloth. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"How you feelin'?" Jack wasn't risking raising his voice back to a normal volume yet, not quite trusting that the worst of the migraine was over but he couldn't help himself from reaching out and carding his fingers through Mac's hair, finally brushing away the strands, stiffened with dried sweat, off his forehead.

"Better," Mac assured, nodding his head and leaning into Jack's hand, soaking up the comfort it offered. "Sore. Head still hurts but it's nothing like it was."

"Good, that's good," Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Think you can set up and take a couple more of these, then?" He leaned back and gently rattled the pill bottle he had sat on Mac's nightstand when he sat down hours ago. "Need to try and keep ahead of it."

"Yeah," Mac agreed, propping himself up on his elbows and reaching a not-quite-steady hand out for the pills and the waterbottle Jack had managed to make appear. "I really will get that prescription refilled," He said, not meeting Jack's eyes. "Next time I'm out. On the way to work tomorrow, I guess."

"Oh, you're right about havin' those drugs for next time but you ain't goin' to work tomorrow," Jack said, not giving him any room to argue. "You know how bad these things wipe you out. Maybe not the day after if you don't 'fess up and tell me what brought this on in the first place."

"I get them sometimes," Mac hedged around the subject. "You know that. Have for years."

"I know. As I recall I’ve been there for my fair share of 'em. Enough to know that they don’t just hit out of the blue like that. There’s always somethin’ that causes it. So start talking, Mac."

“Guess I just got a little run down,” Mac sighed. “We’ve been going pretty much nonstop for weeks and then everything with Frankie…” He let his words trail off, hoping Jack would count that answer as good enough.

“That was one hell of an emotional roller coaster,” Jack agreed. “I’ll give you that. Thinkin’ you lost her then realizing she had faked it, thrown into an unofficial mission to help her out on the spot when your heart’s still tellin’ you you’re supposed to be grieving.”

“And it’s not like we were coming off an easy mission before that.” Mac threw an arm across his eyes, trying to block out the images of Jack holding his broken arm and panting from pain in the garbage compacter, the stark contrast of the navy sling against his white dress shirt when he dropped everything and flew across the country to be by Mac’s side, even though he was hurt and it was Mac’s fault.

Matty’s warnings were still playing through his mind on an endless loop, questioning their partnership and if they were a good enough team to keep together. She thought they would be more successful, better assets to the organization she was in charge of now, if they were separated and she had the power to make that call if she wanted to. That was enough to drive Mac’s anxiety higher and he could feel himself tense up at the thought, the migraine trying its best to reform behind his sore eyes.

“Hey,” Jack sensed it automatically, reaching over to gently tug Mac’s arm away from his face. “Stop stressin’. What is goin’ on with you? Seriously, man, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

Mac turned his head to meet Jack's eyes in the barely-there afternoon light sneaking past his curtained windows and frowned at the sling still in place, this time over a familiar old band tee. "You missed physical therapy again, didn't you?"

"I had better places to be," Jack offered a one-armed shrug, not relenting his grip on Mac's arm, locking his hand around Mac's wrist, feeling the pulse pounding away just beneath his skin.

"You gotta quit skipping it," The oppressive weight of guilt forced his eyes closed again. "You have to take care of you, stop worrying about me."

"Not gonna happen," Jack shook his head. "Not now, not ever. Is that what this is about? You're beatin' yourself up over me breakin’ my arm?"

"No, I mean, maybe, a little..." Mac admitted. "It was my fault."

"Not the way I remember it." Jack let go of Mac's arm to move closer, sitting on the edge of the bed since he didn't have to worry about the shifting of the mattress making Mac's headache worse anymore. "You gonna let me take the blame for you getting a migraine?"

"No?" Mac frowned at the thought. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Alright, now, that right there's how I feel about this," Jack nodded towards his injured arm. "It ain't nobody's fault, but if it was gonna be it would be mine."

"That's not how Matty sees it." Mac's eyes shot open wide as soon as the words slipped out. He hadn't meant to say them out loud, hadn't meant for Jack to hear.

"So that's what's wrong, huh? Matty Webber. What'd she say to you?"

"Nothing, really."

"Mac." Jack's voice was a no-nonsense warning. "Talk or I'll go ask her myself right now. I'm findin' out one way or another."

"She's just figuring out how to run things," Mac began, hedging around the actual issue, the fear that had been circling in his mind ever since his evaluation. "How to make Phoenix as successful as it can be, with the assets she's been given, and... And where those assets need to be placed for maximum effect."

"And one of those assets in this scenario is you?" Jack guessed.

Mac nodded. "That's why you've got to stop, okay? The skipping out on PT and flying out to sit through a funeral with me, breaking the rules, even bending them, until she sees that we work, that we have to stay partners. She can't split us up, Jack."

"Now why would she go and put an idea like that in your head?" His free hand fell into place on the side of Mac's neck, thumb rubbing at his jawline, trying to ease the tension he could feel, even there. "No wonder you went and got yourself all worked up. It's gonna take forces a whole lot stronger than Matty Webber to break up this dynamic duo, Mac. Come on, now, you know that, right?"

"But she could."

"She won't," Jack promised, not a trace of doubt in the words. "Ain't gonna happen. I won't let it."

"What if...?"

"No, hey. Stop. Look at me," Jack waited until Mac's eyes met his own before continuing. "Listen, Matty and I, we have our issues, I'll admit to that. I wasn't too crazy about the idea of her bein' our new boss and I guess I probably let some of that bleed over into how you felt about her right off the bat, and I'm sorry. But for what it's worth? Kiddo, I trust her. Completely. And you trust me, right?"

"Always."

"Then I promise you, she ain't splitting us up. She's testing the waters, like you said, tryin' to see how things work. There's an adjustment period for things like this, sure, but Matty's smart. She's not gonna let one stupid mistake be the end of a partnership that has proven itself time and time again for the better half of a decade now, okay? We're gonna be just fine."

"You really trust her?" Mac felt himself begin to relax at Jack's reassurances.

"There is nothing Matty is going to put above her agent's safety. Not a damn thing. That's why this," Jack raised his arm for emphasis, "Got her thinking. It's never a good situation when an agent gets hurt in the field, but she isn't one to make a decision as big as splitting up already-formed teams on a whim, and certainly not a team with a track record like ours. So stop makin’ yourself sick worrying about it."

"Okay," Mac sighed, feeling the tension begin to drain from his body.

"Seriously?" Jack teased. "All that stressin' out and you can drop it? Just like that?"

Mac shrugged, leaning his head into Jack's hand again taking in one final moment of shameless comfort before pushing himself up to sitting. "I trust you. If you say it's nothing to worry about, then I won't. Thank you. For, you know, everything."

"A bond like that and you thought changin' bosses would be all it took to split us up?" Jack continued the teasing as he pulled Mac in for a one-armed hug.

"Don't know what I was thinking." Mac laughed into Jack's shoulder.

"That's the problem. You get to thinking and get lost in that big brain of yours. That's why you need me around to bring you back out of it."

"I always need you." Mac's voice turned serious. "Not just because of that, though. Just, always."

"Then lucky for you I ain't goin' anywhere." Jack didn't bother telling Mac that it was a two-way street, that he needed him just as much, if not more. He didn't have to say it. He had all the time in the world left to show it.

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda turned into me passive-aggressively reminding the universe that Jack Dalton would have never left Mac and that we’ve already been through this game of not thinking we can trust Matty before. Whoops. 
> 
> Anyway, who wants to help build a time machine to take us back to Season One?!


End file.
